Page 35 of Wild Devotion
At least, that’s what I was blaming my mood on. The real reason I was so on edge was that I’d tossed and turned all night, replaying every moment with Caleb that I should’ve been trying to forget.
Longer hair on a man is super sexy.
What the hell had I been thinking? Maybe the pregnancy hormones were killing off my brain cells. The thought worried me, especially since I was still fixating on him even with my mother droning in my ear.
Was it normal to fantasize about a foot rub?
It wasn’t just the pressure of his hands on my feet, or the way he’d paid such careful attention, finding every spot that made me melt. It was what came after.
The hallway. His hand holding mine. The way I’d pressed my palm to his chest and felt his heart pounding beneath it, hard and sure, through the thin cotton of his shirt.
God, he’d felt good.
I kept replaying the way his body had gone taut under my hand. How badly I’d wanted to let my fingers wander instead of pulling away. And the patient determination in his voice when he’d said we were friends for now.
It wasn't the first time he'd said it, but somehow the words held more promise than they had before.
And that scared the shit out of me. Because the worst part wasn't wanting him. The worst part was the voice in my head telling me I didn't deserve him. And the sickening realization that the voice sounded exactly like my mother's.
“Are you even listening to me, Zadiebug?” Jenni’s shrill voice cut through my thoughts. “I swear, you’d think I was the wicked witch, the way you avoid me.”
“I’m not avoiding you, Mom. But I’m not driving all the way to Calgary just for Thanksgiving dinner, and you know I can’t afford a flight.” And there was no way in hell she was offering to pay. “Besides, I’d be lousy company. I’d probably spend the entire time in your bathroom, throwing up.”
Not to mention, I didn’t want to buy the groceries, cook the meal, and clean up afterward. My mother’s version of cooking usually involved a drive-thru window.
Jenni wasn’t maternal or anything close to a homemaker. She was easier with me now that I was an adult who could fend for herself, but when I was a kid, she never missed a chance to make me feel like a burden. I was the price she paid for falling in love with a no-good loser like my father—another man she’d never married.
“But Andy’s been looking forward to meeting you. And we were hoping to finally meet your boyfriend.”
“Mom,” I snapped, my voice growing louder, “I told you. Sean isn’t my boyfriend anymore.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m sure if you give him a chance, he’d be more than happy to make it up to you.” Like that was an option I’d ever be interested in. “I bet he feels bad for running off. You can’t fault a man like that. He’s got all that talent, all that fame. His life is so much bigger than yours.”
Pain sparked behind my eyes. “And yet, he’s still so small in so many ways.” I’d fully abandoned quiet and polite.
“Don’t be mad, Bug. You know I love you.”
A knock on my bedroom door saved me from a verbal wrestling match.
“I love you too.” I meant it, mostly. “Maybe I’ll come for a visit at Christmas, but I’ve got to go now.”
“Okay, just take care of yourself. And don’t let your fancy French friend keep you away from me too long.”
I hung up before the guilt could settle in. Despite our differences and my lingering bitterness, she loved me in her own limited way. But going back to Calgary meant getting pulled back into the orbit of supporting her, emotionally and financially. It meant giving up everything I’d started building here.
I dragged myself across the room and opened the door.
Caleb stood in the hallway, barefoot in gray sweatpants and a T-shirt that fit a little too well. His hair was pushed back, glasses on, his blue eyes fixed on me with unmistakable concern.
The man I’d been fantasizing about all night was standing in front of me, looking hot as sin, and I was a mess again.
My hair was a wet pile of knots. My yoga pants were a size too small. And my shirt did absolutely nothing to hide my braless nipples, which hardened at the sight of him like they were greeting him and ruining my life at the same time.
“Hey.” His voice was low, his presence taking up the entire hallway. “I heard your voice through the wall. You all right?”
“Fine. Just my mom being my mom.” I crossed my arms over my chest, which did nothing except make it look like I was groping myself.
His gaze dropped to my chest. And he didn’t even try to hide it.
